


to the (drum) beat of your heart

by sugarcoats



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Casual Intimacy, Fluff, M/M, Ned is a drummer, Peter is babysitting an OC, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, except it's not actually set in high school, impromptu mcdonalds date, super lighthearted, two nerds falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-08-20 16:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16558922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcoats/pseuds/sugarcoats
Summary: Ned is an excellent drummer—though showing that off while accompanying a children’s band is not easy, so he decides to have a little fun. Peter is in the crowd—and an excellent internet stalker.





	1. Chapter 1

Ned was a good drummer, he really was, so how exactly he had landed here, he hadn’t quite wrapped his head around yet. He was damn underappreciated. Don’t get him wrong; he loved kids, and they loved him back, but this wasn’t it.

He took one last breath of fresh oxygen, before stepping into his huge, pink, fruit slash bunny suit. Yeah, he had to be in costume to play on stage. How he survived breathing and sweating through five centimetres of foam, he wasn’t sure about either. Regardless, he was anonymous, probably for the best. He still hadn’t found a band of his own, both because he was a little busy and the last band he tried out for played country. Nothing wrong with country music, not really, it just wasn’t the kind of music he wanted to play.

Ned was aware that kindergarten songs weren’t exactly the type of music he did wanna play, but he signed up for it. He needed money and say what you want to say about the job, they paid him over minimum wage. Plus, it was a weekly thing every Saturday, meaning that he didn’t have to give up a lot. It’s not like he had plans.

So, on that faithful Saturday afternoon, he had set himself on autopilot mode from the moment he put on his costume until he was done. The same rhythms, beats, tempo, every time. He was accompanying a choir of five-year-olds, but did the instruments really have to be that dull?

Through the tiny windows of gauze in the big cartoon eyes on his costume, he looked out on the crowd. Ned was always surprised how many people showed up, even if half of them were usually relatives of the kids singing. They played outside, in a little park; good weather really made a difference. Though in his suit, his sight was limited to an immediate radius of two meters, and two small spots in his peripheral vision. Not the best costume design.

They started the last song before their break, and Ned’s mind wandered off again. He missed playing something challenging—to just go all out. At home, he couldn’t disturb the neighbours by being loud, so he had an electrical drum set, but that was different. There’s nothing like feeling the snare drums and bass vibrate as you play, the deep sounds carrying through his body and filling his mind.

A particularly wild dancing kid caught his eye and pulled him out of his fantasy. They had just finished the first chorus and suddenly the song felt infinite. He couldn’t wait to take a break, somehow drink coffee without taking off his costume…and go back to playing. Ugh, depressing.

Maybe he could mix it up a little. It was the last song, so he wouldn’t mess up the schedule by confusing the kids, and surely the young singers wouldn’t mind. They loved listening to his soundcheck, which was ten times as wild as the accompaniment to the actual songs. A little beat had never killed anyone, right?

Ned started by changing up some of the beats, nothing too spectacular. He got no reaction, except for the white middle-aged lady supervising the kids. She was uncompromising and the slightest change in music resulted in a side eye from her. As he anticipated the change of melody, he timed his drum roll and started playing a whole lot wilder. By now people must have noticed, yet no one had come on stage to stop him yet, so it couldn’t be that bad.

He felt the beads on the top of his costume shake as he started to move with the music. Honestly, every part of his costume confused him—most of all the flowery embroidery and beads? On top of an already ambiguous, anthropomorphic apple-bunny creature? Sometimes less really was more.

By now they had reached the bridge, and Ned went wild. He threw his heart into it and just played. He heard faint cheering and started smiling. He had all this bottled up energy and it felt so good, so freeing, to just let go. He enjoyed the kids singing and taking the creative freedom to make some slight…changes to the music had made this job so much more enjoyable.

Ned turned his head to see more of the crowd, and his eye fell upon the same kid from earlier, still dancing. There was an older boy with him, wearing a bright red hoodie, and they were both having a good time. The kid was jumping around erratically, while the boy attempted to move on the beat. It was nice seeing some people enjoying it as much as he was.

The song was ending and he closed his eyes. The last note was played, and the audience cheered. Ned loved being dramatic, and this was one of those times. He finally dared to open his eyes again and was about to face Mrs. Satan’s wrath—he meant, Mrs. Salatan—when he heard one of the kids in the choir start crying and he gave her a smug look (that she couldn’t see, fortunately). Saved by the crying child, hooray!

It was time for a break and the children who had been singing bowed as the crowd applauded. Ned stood up and waved. All the adult musicians were in costumes and had to act like their character—whatever that character may be.

His other supervisor ushered them off the podium, and he went to sit on the edge of it. Standing was so much worse than sitting in this suit.

Mrs. Salatan caught his gaze again and gave him the death-look, but couldn’t do anything in that moment. She had to lure away the kids who were giving him high-fives and gushing how much they loved his act. He vowed to quickly get away as soon as the show was done, so she couldn’t get to him first.

He was trying to get a water bottle into his suit— _‘cause why_ would _a suit have an opening to drink through, if you can’t even take its head off, I mean, no, that’d be ridiculous_ —but he was struggling, when a little boy approached him.

At first Ned wondered if he was one of the new singers, but soon after the lanky boy in the red sweater he’d seen in the crowd followed, already muttering and speaking up to apologise as soon as he saw Ned.

The little boy beat him to it by stating excitedly: “Hey, you’re a cool drummer. I’m Max and I want to be a drummer!” Seeing the boy in front of him now, he realised he was older than the kids in the music group.

The brown-haired teenager cut him off. He was probably about his age—not that the strange boy’d know that, seeing as the only ‘Ned’ parts visible were his eyes and his feet. “Hey, I’m so sorry, I’ll entertain him otherwise, I’m sure you’re on your well-earned break and—”

“It’s okay,” he assured both of them. “Hey kiddo, how’d you even get in here? I know we don’t have a great security team, but technically you shouldn’t be here,” he said and laughed.

“Well, there was no sign and I could have been one of the singers?” He suggested chipperly. “Can I see your costume?”

Ned nodded. Max started exploring his suit and touching every embellishment he could find.

The older boy watched helplessly. “He shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, I’m supposed to be babysitting him but, y’know kids…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged, giving him a look.

“No worries, man.” He extended his hand, still covered in a pink paw; “hey, I’m Ned by the way.”

“Hi, I’m Parker, I mean, Peter,” he stammered. “Peter Parker. You’re good. I mean, you seem a little overqualified for the job, those drumming skills for a kids song, but damn!”

He laughed. “Thanks!”

“Doesn’t it get boring? I can’t imagine you’re allowed to do that every show.”

“Sadly not,” he chuckled. “I like to complain about the job, but it’s really not that bad. The supervisors are fine, the kids are great, and my pay isn’t so bad either, considering I used to do this almost daily for my drumming lessons.” The memories of dull beats as drumming exercises still fresh in his mind—he definitely preferred this. “I mean, I got away with that whole drum solo! For now, anyways.”

“That’s good. They should let you do that more often, it’s really cool. Is this your full time job or?”

“No, I’m in my last year of high school. I do this as side gig, in fact I am—“

Max interrupted him by means of spreading his arms and wordlessly asking for a hug. He embraced him and the little boy went a little shy, eventually asking him if he could sit behind the drums for a bit.

Ned looked around, for any supervisors, but none of them were in sight. Oh well, it’s not like he could get into more trouble. He lifted Max onto his hip and placed him on the drum throne. “Go ahead, take it easy.”

Peter seemed to relax a little and soon Max was playing around with the drums while Peter and him were talking.

“So what brings you here?” He wondered if he’s seen him in the crowd before, but he didn’t recognise him.

“Well, as I said, I was babysitting, and you might have noticed the high energy levels in that little rascal,” he gave Max a loving side eye, “so we went outside and happened to hear you playing.”

“Cool! Yeah, we’re here every week. Do you sit him regularly?”

Peter nodded. “He’s my neighbour and has a single mother raising him, so the help is appreciated. Besides, who can say no to those puppy eyes?”

“That’s really sweet of you.”

“I mean, I also get paid, so that helps.”

“True. I wish I could use this drumming experience to get into a band, but I have yet to find a place that fits.”

He nodded contemplatively. “Maybe you could try the Teletubbies?”

“Very funny.” He gave him a playful push. “Do they even still exist?”

They both went back to watching Max and a moment later Peter started enthusiastically sharing a story about him.

Ned caught himself looking at those brown eyes longer than necessary, momentarily glad about the mask that covered his blush.

 _Stop it, he would never be interested with the costume you’re wearing, and besides, he’s only here because he couldn’t stop Max from coming._ He told his inner dialogue to shut up.

“…so that’s how I ended up watching the entirety of the Star Wars movies back-to-back again,” Peter concluded, and started laughing.

“Sounds like the dream.” He chuckled.

“They’re classics,” he agreed.

A comfortable silence fell upon them and they both watched Max who was drumming a quiet beat.

He wanted to know more about the boy, but he didn’t really know where to begin. Peter seemed like a really cool guy, but they barely knew each other. Before he had the chance to ponder about this further, the stage manager came towards him. She gave him a questioning look and he got the hint.

“Hey buddy, I think our time’s over,” he said, turning towards Max. The boy temporarily traded his laugh for a pout, but he could see the joy in his eyes. “You’re gonna be a great drummer someday,” Ned told him and ruffled his hair.

Peter took the boy’s hand and dragged him away from the drum set. “That’s sweet, thank you. Also for wearing him out, it makes my task much easier.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck babysitting, Peter.”

“See ya around, Ned.” Peter smiled at him and disappeared with Max.

Ned prepared himself for the second half of the show. They immediately got on so well, he already regretted not getting any of his social medias. Asking for his phone number after having known him for twenty minutes would’ve been too much, and he didn’t wanna be that guy, but he wished he’d tried anyway.

He hoped they’d come back, but by the end of it, there was no tall boy in a red sweater, nor a small boy with him, to be seen—they must’ve left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: inspired by this [youtube video](https://youtu.be/YSjsNzffUGQ). yes, I am aware that the costume and the way they’re playing is part of that band’s Thing, but without context I just found it a funny concept and applied it to peterned.
> 
> let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Peter couldn’t stop thinking about that drummer. He wondered if there was a way to see him again. He could go back to the park on Saturday, but he wasn’t taking Max, as he was off to a music camp of sorts. Without an eight-year-old with him, there really was no convincing reason to be in the crowd of a children’s band.

What other way to find him was there though? It’s not like he could rely on fate only to bring them back together. Then it occurred to him.

It was time to put his internet stalk skills to use. He didn’t have a lot to go on, but it should be enough to find some sort of social media presence. First name, drummer and the park… Let’s see where that got him.

Looking through the Google hits, he immediately realised he had very little visual clues to go on, unless Ned regularly posed in his pink fruit suit on Instagram. Questionable.

There were no results listing a drummer named Ned. What if it was short for something? He tried Benedict. Then Edwin. Edmund. Edward. The boy he’d met felt like none of those names, but he could be mistaken. He found an Edward Leeds, not shown drumming, but he had brown eyes and likes Star Wars. That had to be him! Not a lot of clear pictures, but it wasn’t like he knew what the guy looked like anyways.

He clicked on his latest post and found himself looking at a poster promoting a band night. Friday night, downtown. A plethora of players, genres and instruments, one of which was Ned’s band maybe? He’d told him he didn’t have a band yet so who knew. And just like that, he had plans for the end of the week.

He went back to Edwar—Ned’s profile. Instead of his posts, he now looked at related friends, surprised to see they had two mutual friends, and tried to find more of his social media. He found his Instagram and began scrolling through posts Ned had been tagged in. There were a lot of them, spanning across school years and hair cuts.

The effectivity of his stalking was almost embarrassing. As he scrolled through even older posts, he was careful not to like any of them. Wouldn’t be the first time. He saw Ned transform to a younger and more alternative version as he grew younger. He had reached peak emo, the eye-covering black bangs, swiped to the left, as Ned’s dark eyes looked into the lens, topped by a black and white filter. The only thing missing was neon dyed hair, but he was wearing all black, so it evened out. At this point Peter was in deep, and seeing Ned’s pre-emo babyface made him realise enough was enough. You didn’t wanna meet a guy just to be able to tell him about all his childhood phases. That’s a guaranteed turn-off.

The week passed by with little worth mentioning. School was school, and Ned was on his mind, sometimes. Okay, most of the times. He blamed it on the mystery of his identity, and maybe the fact that his profile was still in the recently searched section of his Instagram.

On Friday he prepared to go out and see Ned play again, hopefully. He had to look up the address; it was a small venue he hadn’t been to. It was kinda strange for him to do something like this, but he really wanted to meet him again. They hit off really well and sometimes you just had to follow your gut feeling. Messaging a random Facebook page out of the blue was a bit much, and he would notice he’d stalked him right away. Nope, that wasn’t an option. Peter would just show up there and as for his reason to be there… that was a problem for future him, he decided.

He took the bus to the venue and walked to a small building in between two cafes. For a moment he wasn’t sure if he was at the right address, as it looked kind of deserted. He tried a door with a dim light and landed in a long, narrow corridor leading to a basement. As he walked into the basement, he started to hear murmurs and the sounds of a guitar being tuned.

He stood in a large room with a small bar, some tables, more chairs, and a provisional stage on the left. It was reasonably busy, and he was glad for it. It would’ve been awkward if he were one of about three people, but now he could safely assume an anonymous identity as he went to sit in the back of the room.

He chose a lonely chair from which he had a good view on the stage. Draping his jacket over the back of it, he installed himself in the seat, trying to seem busy by looking on his phone.

It wasn’t too long before the first band started and the overhead lights were turned down in favour of the bright stage spotlight. The first act was a safe choice; it sounded like a generic pop rock song. They were alright, but nothing he’d put on himself. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but now he hoped it wasn’t all like that.

Next was a cover band; the quality differed greatly between the different artists they played. At least it wasn’t monotonous—more like all over the place—and thus already topping the first band. They didn’t seem to prefer any genre over another, though Peter thought they really should’ve left out the Britney Spears cover. No one could sing Toxic like she does.

Afterwards, an intriguing a cappella act came on. From first look, Peter’d expected a church-choir like repertoire, but he was mistaken. Their mouths transformed into various instruments as they produced different beats and melodies. A combination of clashing notes and harmonies carried Peter into another world and he lost himself in it.

This was followed by a less strong act. By the time that the sixth or seventh band started—frankly, he had lost count—he began to worry that Ned wasn’t playing after all. Had he misread the poster? No, he had double-checked the information to avoid this. He was enjoying the music but if Ned wasn’t playing, he might as well not have come at all.

Peter started to doze off over time, having been exhausted from a busy week of school, when he saw a familiar silhouette at the edge of the stage. Not seen in the same costume, but the height and movements were the identical. He came up on stage with two other people: a singer with a guitar slung over their shoulder and a bassist. Peter straightened in his chair; this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

Hearing the drums was as magical as the first time. Most of the kids’ band had been slow and repetitive, so Ned really only had had his improvised drum solo to impress. Now, however, the songs were more challenging technically, and more instrumental anyway. The singer wasn’t always clearly singing words, sometimes just harmonising with the two other members. The bassist played her bass as if it were another one of her limbs, an extension of her being. And then there was Ned.

Ned was something else. Ned became the drums, the drums were him, and Peter was blown away once again. The boy looked gorgeous, his skin glowing from joy and sweat.

Like in the park, he could see Ned go into his own world as he played. And with him, Peter was being drawn into a world of passion and anger and harmony, all at once. Ned was that talented, and he couldn’t imagine listening to anyone else at that moment. It felt as if the drums were talking to him, as if Ned was speaking with his drum sticks instead of lips.

The band did some impressive coordination when they played perfectly planned breaks—impressive for Peter anyway, who had little knowledge of music.

He could barely tell where one song ended and the other started, as the band smoothly transitioned from one melody to the next. This only added to the ‘lost in the music’ effect, and when one of the songs ended, he became aware of the mumbling of the crowd. He was disorientated and it took a look from Ned into his direction—but not at him—to bring him back.

He may have been a little biased after having spent an afternoon stalking the guy, but damn, he was skilled. He kept mentioning that he had no knowledge of music, but really, he recognised great music when he heard it. And he was hearing it at that moment.

He didn’t care he was being dramatic, seeing Ned playing the drums had been the highlight of Peter’s entire week.

Their show was over before he knew it; the lead singer saying the words ‘thank you, this is our last song’ far too soon. Peter liked to imagine that Ned and his band mates got the biggest and loudest applause of all, but that was probably wishful thinking. Nevertheless, he stood and clapped and whistled as hard as he could.

A few more acts followed, but Peter had a hard time concentrated on any of them. He couldn’t stop thinking about that boy behind the drums and the love and passion behind the music he made.

After the gig, he worked up the courage to approach Ned. He petted a dog that was dozing off next to him until the hall had cleared a little, and snook little glances towards the corner where Ned was. It had gotten quieter as more people left, and he could actually hear Ned tapping a beat as he was standing next to the podium.

He was packing up when Peter went up to him. “Hey there,” Peter said, startling him.

The boy looked up and a confused expression unfolded on his face, before he realised. “Hey! It’s Peter, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Ned? I recognised your drum style from last weekend.” He was hyperaware of his own voice, attempting keep cool and not to stutter or start rambling.

Ned seemed much more at ease, and it both comforted and intimidated him. “Funny to meet you here!”

Peter gave a weak smile. Yeah, it sure was a coincidence, wasn’t it. “I loved your performance! Not as good as your version of ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’, but you know, it’s up there.” Joking to hide his nervousness, good one, Peter.

“I try, I try,” he replied smiling. “So what brings you here?”

Uh, oh. He couldn’t admit how he got there, at least not today. “I’ve always been interested in seeing more live music, and been wanting to actually see places in this city.” Who says that? Literally why would he—

“I get that! I’ve been going to school in this district for over five years but never discovered this place until I started playing.” Ned talked excitedly with his hands, probably a side effect of being a drummer.

Another silence which he didn’t know how to fill. He could easily get lost into those questioning kind eyes of his, but sadly that was no acceptable substitute for conversation. “So, uh, you found a band?”

“Yeah! Kinda? It’s temporary, but who knows, it might work out permanently.”

“I’m happy for you,” Peter said, patting on his shoulder. “You work well together. I like your singer, and you have one hell of a bassist. Combined with your drum skills, you’re gonna take over the world.”

Ned laughed; his smile reaching his entire face and which made it look like his chin and cheeks were laughing too. “Now you’re just flattering me. We still have a long way to go, but yeah, it’s looking good!”

The last person there besides them left, and now they were the only people in this dimly lit room. He did hear some people cleaning up behind the scenes, but he was awfully aware of the echo of their own words, as they were the only ones talking.

Ned had just finished a story and Peter hesitated a moment before offering. What did he have to lose? “Wanna grab some fast food? I could use some sugar for energy.”

“Yeah, sure,” he gave him another wide smile, “let me just pack my stuff.” Peter enjoyed his smiles either way, but being the one to cause them made them even more special.

Ned got his bag and together they walked to the exit while joking around about the different instruments they’d heard. Ned interrupted their conversation to suggest where to go. “I know a McDonalds around the corner, unless you had something else in mind?”

“No, that’s cool, lead the way,” he replied, and fought the urge to take his hand.

The sun was setting and they walked a block towards the familiar bold yellow M.

They both ordered a burger menu and went to sit on the couches next to the window. As soon as they were settled, they attacked their food. Whoever observed them must have wondered who starved these two teenage boys, but they were just hungry. Ned because he finished an intense performance, Peter because he finished an intense school week.

With his mouth full of tomato and cheese he asked Ned: “So, you’re also still in school, right?”

The boy opened his dips. “Yeah, last year of high school, what about you?”

“Same, and it’s killing me. I wanna start doing stuff I actually care about.”

“I feel that,” he replied, mouth full of fries.

He played with his napkins. “The mandatory subjects are so broad, and cover so much stuff without practical relevance.”

“Mood,” Ned sighed. “My French teacher tells me to know all grammar and verb tenses by heart, but unless I am motivated to keep up with it and I don’t know, take a gap year in Paris, I won’t ever remember any of it.”

Peter nodded enthusiastically “Exactly. I’m not against learning new languages, it is such an important skill, but the way in which the language acquisition program is structured just doesn’t work.” He shoved another handful of fries into his mouth. “At least you’re doing something you’re passionate about after school. Is music something you wanna work towards in your future?”

Ned thought about it for a second. “I think so. Sometimes I have to stop myself from putting all my time and energy into it, as I tend to abandon my school work, but luckily I do well anyway. Though really, I have no idea where I’ll end up.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “Could be anywhere tbh.”

“Did you just tee bee ayetch in real life?” He looked at him unbelievably.

“Maybe I did, fight me,” he said challengingly, looking Ned into the eyes.

He didn’t reply and suddenly the was a silence, filled with an ambiguous tension.

It was unbearable. Ned started laughing first, and he soon joined. Ned’s laugh was irresistible, and incredibly contagious.

They paused their conversation as Peter ordered two ice creams for them. When he came back, Ned had folded two paper boats out of their receipts.

Peter made a remark about the infrastructure of a folded boat and then they were back to banter. Their conversations turned absurd, funny, serious, emo, deep and everything in between. Silences were comfortable, which was rare as Peter usually tried to fill every silence by rambling to make it less awkward. But not with Ned. Nothing was awkward. It may have been strange and new, but never uncomfortable.

They landed on the subject of not belonging, and their experiences of fitting in during childhood. Peter talked about growing up without his parents, and having a hard time attaching himself to people. Ned told him about growing up Filipino in a white American school, and being called the “fat kid”. They bonded over their nerdiness, having similar interests as their peers but just being so much more into it, on a level that was labeled “freak”.

“What is it about difference that’s so bad? They always act as if the very existence of something or someone different is a threat to their own.”

Ned shook his head disapprovingly. “I wish I knew. I guess it’s too easy to join and be part of the dominant group to be safe or something…”

Peter didn’t know if he wanted to bring up his sexuality now, but it would have to come up one time or another. “I remember having a crush on this boy,” trying to drop hints, “and when we hung out alone we would like, hold hands, and do non-straight stuff, but as soon as others were present he would throw around homophobic slurs around as if it was his second nature.” For a moment, he was scared he had interpreted the situation wrong, that it hadn’t been safe to talk about that, as Ned’s expression didn’t betray anything, but he was wrong and Ned’s words were comforting.

“It probably was,” he laughed humourlessly. “I’m sorry, it really shouldn’t fucking be like that, especially if other kids are involved.”

“Hmm,” he agreed and hummed.

“I know I once told my middle school’s friend about questioning my sexuality and they shut that topic down so fast, I never mentioned it again. It took me years to come to terms with it afterwards.” He had to contain himself not to cheer that Ned mentioned his sexuality as well. Especially since their conversation wasn’t exactly of the cheering kind.

Did it increase his chances with him? Questionable. Was it nice to have another gay friend? Always.

“I feel like we’re at least seeing considerable changes in society and media, so it’s getting better,” Peter noted.

“Yeah! Seeing young LGBTQ kids talk about themselves makes me so happy.”

They relaxed, staring at other customers and observing people running through the rain. Ned checked his watch, and visibly jumped. “Oh shit, it’s that late already, I need to go home.” He looked up apologetically.

“Hmm?” Peter looked at his own phone. Eleven thirty PM. Oops. “Fuck, same.”

Neither of them had realised they’d been talking for that long. Ned frantically cleaned up their table and put on his coat. “I had a lot of fun. Should we exchange phone numbers, or you have Instagram or Twitter?”

“I’m spiderboi on all social media. Give me your phone, I’ll text myself from it.”

Ned reached into his pocket and handed Peter his phone. Peter brushed against his hand and then he was typing in his own number, texting himself the username.

 

 **ned** : henlo its spiderboi -peter

 

“Cool.” They laughed about the ridiculousness of the situation. “Well, I gotta go, bye!” Ned waved and walked towards the exit.

“See ya!” A moment too long later. “Wait, my bus stop is in that direction.” He caught up with Ned and they walked silently along the street.

On the last intersection before the stop, Ned told him goodbye again in a low voice. It was a quiet night, it felt inappropriate to disturb it by making noise. Besides, they were both crashing from a sugar rush and exhaustion.

“Goodnight, sleep well.”

“You too.”

Peter’s cheeks hurt from smiling. The two of them really clicked and he felt like he could be around the boy for the double the time and not get sick of it. He probably looked like an idiot on the way home, unreasonably happy for that hour of day and state of the weather, but he couldn’t care less.

Before he went to sleep, he plugged his charger into his phone and checked his text messages. There it was: one unread message by an unknown number he had written himself. Ned’s number.

He sent Ned a meme back. No better way to a boy’s heart than memes, right.

 

 **peter** : made me think of u lol

 

As he put away his phone, he couldn’t help but smile at the remnants of that evening.

He turned around in his bed and closed his eyes. His legs felt uncomfortable, so he turned back, but he still couldn’t sleep. There was a lot on his mind, but one constant was that kind, warm hearted boy. Peter caught himself still smiling. Maybe there was something there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to say this last time but Big Thank You to [qthulhu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qthulhu/pseuds/qthulhu) for beta-reading this, check out their writing bc it blows me away every time!!


	3. Chapter 3

Another text came in. Ned smiled automatically, unable to keep his fondness in check.

 

 **peter** : so the next avengers movie is supposedly four hours long I mean who do they think they are, lord of the rings?

 **peter** : don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining but

 **peter** : gotta train my bladder to be able to survive that

 

Ever since their impromptu McDonalds date, they’d been friends and talking daily via text, but because of their competing school schedules they hadn’t been able to meet again. Peter had told him he had a science project coming up, which he had to devote all his time to. Meanwhile, Ned tried to balance his exam prep time with his music time, which usually resulted in five minutes for studying and an hour of drumming. Senior year took up a lot of time, and everyone seemed to insist on keeping them busy with even more homework, as if the daunting stress of the upcoming exams and graduation wasn’t enough.

They didn’t live close enough to come over and study together, so instead they texted each other whenever they were free, or busy but distracting each other anyway. Peter would send him pictures of his silly doodles in class, and in return Ned sent him little videos of him, trying to drum with mundane objects. One time, Ned’s dad caught him filling a dozen glasses with different amounts of water to create various pitches of drums, and he had to make an excuse that it was for school. His dad bought the excuse, or at least pretended to for Ned’s dignity.

The only benefit of their incompatible schedules was that Ned’s parents would ask questions if Peter were to hang out at his’, and he didn’t wanna deal with them yet.

This lack of time yet mutual need to keep talking led to conversations led over the course of a day, sometimes paused when either of them had class, but the other always found away to pick the conversation back up.

Ned had mastered the art of putting his phone into his sleeve, making it impossible for the teacher to notice as he was texting. He felt bad knowing he already neglected school in favour of music, and his crush (let’s just call it what it is) only made that worse. On the other hand, most of the subjects came easy to him anyway, so it wasn’t as if his grades suffered.

That was another reason why his parents wanted him to pursue a university degree. They didn’t see the point in him doing music if he was this good at STEM subjects. As if being seventeen was the only time for him to get into science.

He sighed. No point in dwelling on that now; his mind was running overtime anyway, dealing with the question of his educational future and his parents’ position in it would overwhelm him until he’d break down. Good times.

The school bell pulled him out of his spiralling thoughts and Peter’s last text (‘can’t wait to see you’) put a smile on his face that lasted the rest of his classes.

 

 **ned** : are u free this Friday

 **peter** : yeah why

 **ned** : wanna get coffee after school?

 **peter** : sure no homo

 **peter** : kidding it’s a date? ✨

 **ned** : yes homo

 

—

 

They had agreed to meet at a new coffee shop, and Ned was running late. He’d been feeling jittery all day, although he knew they’d be fine. His heart was freaking out, making too big of a deal of seeing the boy who’d been dominating his thoughts all week. The shop was around Peter’s school, meaning Ned had to travel thirty minutes to get there. He couldn’t stop finger drumming—pretty sure he annoyed every single person on public transit—but that was the only way to kinda get rid of his nerves.

When he arrived, he immediately spotted his brown hair in an oversized sweatshirt. He paused for a moment, allowing himself to take in the moment.

A breath. He got this. He tried to keep cool but started smiling wide as he approached Peter anyway. It was the involuntary reaction to seeing any person he cared about for the first time in a while—of course Peter would elicit one of those smiles.

Peter greeted him with a “ _I already ordered a latte for you_ ,” as he stood up and pulled Ned into a hug. He was just the tiniest bit taller, and Ned almost buried his face in his warm neck.

“Thanks,” he said softly. For the coffee, and for the hug.

They sat down and he put his jacket over the chair.

“So,” Peter said.

He laughed. Never one to be silent. “So.”

Peter was playing with a napkin and obviously clueless as what to talk about. Ned put him out of his misery by initiating a conversation. “How’s life?” They’d been texting all week, true, but still there were some things you’d rather say in real life.

“‘ts alright. School’s killing me, as always.” Peter sighed. “But I’ve been looking for an internship and I might’ve found something. Plus, we’re hanging out so it’s all good now.”

Ned dared to put his hand forward and brushed against Peter’s. “The feeling is mutual.”

Peter didn’t explicitly respond, but the edges of his mouth lifted into a smile. “I saw a dog on my way here and he started wagging his tail as soon as he saw me.” Peter had found a pen somewhere and started doodling a dog on the napkin. “That’s the energy I aspire to have.”

“Mood. Life as a dog would be so much easier.”

Their drinks came and they slowly began sipping, burning their tongues slightly with coffee in the process.

He felt so at ease with him; it was comforting to be in their own little world for a while. His mind wandered off. “If time travel exists, do you think we all live in one ever-changing timeline or does every instance of time travel cause a new universe to be created?”

Peter ruffled his hair. “I mean, you’d think if time travel exists, we’d have met a time traveler by now.”

“What if we have though? There’s all kinds of weird shit that happened in history, maybe they just landed in the wrong time.”

“Or,” he paused for dramatic effect, “there’s a worldwide conspiracy that keeps us from noticing time’s all messed up.” Peter tapped against his head with his finger. “Every time someone fucks up, everyone’s memory gets erased.”

Ned chuckled at that. “That’s the same energy as the existence of an undercover superhero society or that the earth is flat.”

“How cool would it be to travel through space though,” Peter said excitedly. It seemed cliche but he really looked like a puppy, with his warm brown eyes and inability to sit still.

“So cool—it’s never gonna happen though. Or if it does, you’ll have to sign up for a lifelong mission to breed more humans to live on a different planet.”

“Bro…”

“Bro,” Ned said, smiling ever so widely.

“You’re shattering my dreams.”

“I’m sure it’s for the better. I don’t see you being _that_ excited about math to become an astronaut.”

“Fair enough.” Peter sighed.

They hadn’t seen each other in real life a lot, but they were so close that it felt natural. Sometimes, you meet people who immediately make you feel at home, and Peter was one of them. That wasn’t to say that Ned wasn’t a little nervous around him, but their friendship felt secure which was a relief.

Peter was quiet again. Ned started saying, “Do you ever look at someone and wonder, what is going on inside their head?” using _that_ tone, and Peter laughed. God, he was cute.

“I’m just thinking about how crazy it is that your little drum stunt caught my attention and now we’re friends.”

“Iconic. Not only that, but the coincidence of seeing each other again at that band night!”

Peter was in the middle of a sip of coffee, and coughed. “Well… To call it a coincidence isn’t entirely truthful,” he said, noticeably a little anxious. Peter smiled but wasn’t looking him in the eyes.

Ned laughed. “What do you mean?”

“Y’know—I might’ve, I don’t know, looked you up and saw you were playing that night?” He looked at him with those brown puppy eyes, clearly trying to get him on his good side.

Ned was just confused. “Wait, so you planned that? What more did you find?”

“Let’s just say eyeliner suits you really well,” he said knowingly.

Ned buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Not my emophase.”

“Oh, yes, all of it.” He laughed lovingly. “On a more serious note, you don’t mind that I, uhh, stalked you?”

Ned shook his head, still smiling in pain. “Nah, I might’ve done the same if I had more than your name to go off on. Honestly, it’s impressive, and I’m glad you did.”

Peter laughed, still embarrassed. “Okay, good. Wouldn’t want to scare you away now.”

“Don’t worry, I’m all but scared away,” he said.

The look Peter gave him was hopeful, and there was something else in it too. Ned looked away, unable to face the intensity in the boy’s gaze.

He didn’t wanna feel this awkward and, feeling a surge of confidence, he tried to make him blush instead.

“Ugh, there must be something wrong with my eyes,” he said, muttering dramatically.

Peter looked concerned. “Why, what’s wrong?”

He smirked. “‘Cause I can’t take them off you.”

Peter groaned, but couldn’t hide the pink blush spreading over his cheeks.

 

Ned hadn’t realised how long they’d been sitting there, until he took out his phone to look up whether Roald Dahl was American or British and saw that it was five thirty pm. He showed Peter the time and asked, “done?”

He nodded. “Let’s get out of here. I know where we can go,” he replied.

Peter fought him on this, but Ned paid for their coffees and they left the place.

In front of the coffee shop, a group of people had gathered together for some reason. Ned didn’t really know what was going on, and he didn’t care to find out either, mostly because Peter’s hand had slipped into Ned’s as they tried to make their way through the crowd. He found it hard to care about the rest of the world when that boy was right there. When they got out of the flock of people, neither of them let go. Ned was simultaneously hyperaware of Peter’s soft and warm skin against his, while also trying not to betray his feelings and carrying on walking as usual. It felt as if nothing had changed, and yet everything was ever so slightly altered.

They landed in a shaded area with more trees and slowed down. Peter pointed out a squirrel and they became quiet, just watching it. It turned into a game to get as close to the squirrel as possible, without scaring it away. He noticed Peter was getting itchy to move. _Patience_ , he mouthed. Ned used his arm to restrain Peter. “Look how cute it is,” he whispered into his ear.

They stood there, watching the squirrel in close proximity to each other, then watching each other, the squirrel forgotten.

Ned looked at him, taking one hand into his. Looking at Peter’s lips, he wondered if he could kiss them now.

Peter bent his head down. He intertwined his fingers with Ned’s, bringing their hands up and steering him against the tree.

Ned was leaning his back against rough tree bark, Peter’s lanky figure slightly leaning over him.

He brought his face even closer, and Ned moved to meet him. Their heads bumped into each other slightly, their eyes flicking up and down between lips and eyes. Their lips touched, adjusting to their respective forms. He was warm and felt incredible. Their kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but growing more confident.

They broke apart and he rested his forehead against Peter’s. Both of them were smiling, the joy in their eyes plain to see. Ned gauged his reaction, hesitating for a moment.

“That was nice,” Peter noted.

“Hmm, you think? I wasn’t entirely convinced,” Ned replied slyly. He leaned back in, stealing more kisses.

A moment and a little out of breath later, they looked out onto the little park ahead of them. Afterwards Peter pulled him in a hug, and they just stood there, embracing each other and enjoying each other’s personal space.

“So where were we? You were taking me somewhere?” Ned asked him.

“What? Oh, I don’t know, it was an excuse to come here and make out,” he grinned.

“You little shit.” Ned leaned into him again, as if to kiss him, and Peter closed his eyes. At the last minute, Ned swerved and started tickling him.

Peter shrieked. “Stop,” he giggled. “No, I can’t take it.” Ned’s hands were warm so it wasn’t too bad, but when he started tickling his neck, Peter squirmed and put his hands up. “I surrender, I surrender.”

“Only because you’re cute,” Ned replied, stealing one more kiss, and then he helped him compose himself.

Peter ruffled through his own hair, which had been messed up by the wind and Ned. Wisps of cool air couldn’t get rid of the his pink flushed cheeks, though they did mess up his hair once more.

Ned was silently laughing at him, and Peter just gave him a glare.

“You look adorable.”

“Nerd.”

“Yeah, but,” Ned poked him in his chest, “your nerd now.”

Peter stuck out his tongue. “Does that mean I get full access to all of your old pictures now?”

“It doesn’t matter what I say, because my parents will show you anyway.” Peter laughed and Ned added, “so yeah, I guess. You’ll have to show me yours in return though.”

“Half of my childhood was just me, dressed up as Spider-Man.”

“Aww,” Ned cooed. “Like I said: adorable.” He took Peter’s hand again, warm like the rest of him, and placed it on Peter’s chest, his own hand covering the boy’s, softly pressing against where his heart was.

It was quiet, and Ned was content with the boy next to him, Peter’s hand under his, acutely aware of his own heartbeat hammering in his chest.

Peter’s heartbeat was steady, and Ned used his hand that was on Peter’s chest to softly tap a beat to accompany it.

“I think this is my favourite beat of all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally finished something! everyone is impressed, most of all, myself.
> 
> please let me know what you thought of this in the comments! thank u for the feedback, this has been very fun to write <3
> 
> find me on twitter @galacticskjes !!


End file.
